Happy Child
by FancyToad
Summary: When Gotham's clowny couple have a little bundle of joy, Batman along with the police do everything they can to hide the boy's identity and put him up for adoption. However, 11 years later, fate always tends to lead you home... whether you want it to or not. SUCK AT SUMMARIES! R&R
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I do not own Batman, Joker, Harley Quinn, or any of the other DC characters appearing in this fanfiction. All rights go to DC. The fanchild? he's mine, however. Now i know alot of you are thinking 'oh gawd naut anuther JOKER CHILD OC!' (btw, my iterpretation of you apparently has terrible grammar skills.) And I am going to post these in hopes they'll get good reviews? I'd love to conitune this little plot, but if it ends up sucking too badly, do tell me and i'll occupy my time on other projects.

* * *

><p>"This is a mess."<p>

"Commish, how the hell we gonna keep something like this under wraps?"

"Tell those vultures outside that it's just an injury. God forbid the media get any information yet."

The commissioner looked between the two guards standing with him. They were just as shaken as he was, and equally confused about the whole situation. Exactly _when_ it had happened, nobody could really tell but it was quite obvious they weren't meant to find out. The couple had vanished for a long time and everyone had assumed they were either dead or leaving town. The police and doctors of Arkham were the only ones who knew any differently and they intended to keep it that way.

Gordon sighed and pointed to the door. "Go make sure security is tight. I don't want anyone in or out of this floor and I want the building sealed off." The guards hurried out, leaving the police commissioner to the silence to think.

"This is bad." A deep voice sounded from behind him, but he didn't jump. He was used to this by now.

Commissioner Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You don't say." He muttered sarcastically, looking at the Dark Knight who'd seemingly manifested into the room. He'd always been mysterious like that.

"How is she?" The deep voice asked, nearly emotionless.

"Quinn? She's alright… had a little trouble keeping her restrained so the doctors could deliver. Odd that they'd just turn themselves in. Joker's hasn't said or done anything but stare at his cell wall since he arrived. Personally, I think he's scared."

"Aren't all new fathers? You were one once…"

"Yes, When my wife was pregnant, she certainly wasn't a psycho like Quinn, and I was not the Joker. You can't compare my family to his. Barbara is—"

"lucky, and raised by parents who love her; She's fortunate to have had good parents." Batman's stare was unbroken, facial expression set in stone as he said "Is this child lucky?"

"Lucky it's father didn't decide to abort Harley himself. He's not the family type. I doubt he wanted this to happen."

"He would have done something about it, if it he didn't think he'd get something out of it." The grim detective pointed out, cold face set in stone at Commissioner Gordon.

The two fell silent at this. They knew they couldn't keep the public at bay for long. Someone would slip up, and that would mean a lot of problems for the innocent. Who in their right mind would defend the son or daughter of a mad man and his equally insane girlfriend? Very, very few.

A knock at the door interrupted their thoughts. A male nurse opened the door and jumped slightly at the sight of Batman. "We need to move Harley to the hospital. We don't have the equipment here to care for the baby… Ms. Quinn wasn't far enough along to give birth yet, and we're worried."

The commissioner looked at Batman. "Meet you there?" He asked.

"I'll be there long before you are." The Dark knight answered simply, out the window in the blink of an eye, the soft flutter of his cape in the mild night breeze the only signal of his presence. Soon, even that was gone.

The commissioner followed the nurse to Arkham's Infirmary. He froze at the sight of Harley being wheeled down the hall, her eyes turned to the left to a small bundle in a doctor's arms.

"My baby…"

A paramedic gently held her shoulder to keep her from trying to sit up. "Please stay still, Miss Quinn."

"Is he okay?" The clown girl wheezed, her usually lively demeanor and voice sucked dry of energy.

"We're taking you both to Gotham General. Please calm down."

"…Mistah J…" She squeaked out, only barely holding her eyes open. She was visibly exhausted and eventually fell silent as her eyes began to flutter shut, sending her into a restless, dreamless sleep.

The Commissioner followed them out the back of Arkham, where they were just barely keeping the media and press back from the gates. The world had gone to hell in a couple of hours, and it had started with this small, tiny problem. Gordon's heart ached for the tiny black haired child in the nurse's arms as the child was put on a respirator and air was pumped in and out of its lungs. Something so innocent had come from two people who were so deranged…

"Commissioner, we have room for one more in the ambulance… like a ride?" A paramedic asked. Gordon nodded quickly and jumped in. He sat down and looked at the tiny writhing figure to his left.

"…How's the baby? Is it…"

"Fighting; I'm surprised, but he's putting up quite a fight. Stubborn like his parents, I guess."

Gordon sat back a bit, hand on his forehead. "Holy hell… This is insane." Gordon sighed.

"And he's right the middle of it. Poor little thing… once this hits the media, there's no way they'll let this kid go anywhere or do anything like a normal child. Who wants the son of those two on the streets? And we certainly can't just lock him up." The paramedic said sadly, looking down at the little boy.

The ambulance arrived, and they rushed both mother and child into Gotham General. The doctors all seemed anxious and edgy, as if expecting the Joker to burst in at any moment. However terrified they were, they couldn't seem to keep away. Everyone wanted a glimpse at this mystery child.

Soon the night wound down, and the baby was put in the maternity ward to rest. Gordon entered the dimly lit room, and looked down at the tiny newborn. His chest rose and fell as he slept and his fisted hands moved only slightly every now and then.

"How's the child?" the Dark Knight asked from the back of the room.

"You still think you can surprise me, don't you?" Gordon asked, turning to look at Batman whose face remained the same. The commissioner smirked and looked at the baby once more. "He's fine. Care to look?" He asked over his shoulder.

Batman didn't answer. He simply stood there and clutched his fists at his sides in unease.

"It's a baby, Batman… not a bomb." Commissioner Gordon summoned him over. Soon the Dark Knight walked to look into the tiny glass case.

Gordon watched for an emotion from the knight, and to his surprise he scored a sight at a rare smirk. It quickly vanished and Batman stepped backwards towards the wall, clearing his throat. "Where will he go?"

"Probably up for adoption… I don't suppose the state would allow Harley to keep him."

"How will they make sure nobody tries to hurt him? Joker has enemies… and they'd do anything to get to his kid. I'm not too terribly convinced that Joker is an uninterested as he pretends to be."

Gordon thought for a moment, then shrugged at the comment. "I'll work with the relocation people, see if I can't get a rewrite on his new birth certificate… Younger children have much better chances of getting adopted. Long as nobody finds out who he is, he'll be fine."

"By tomorrow morning, there's no doubt in my mind that it'll be all over the news." Batman sighed.

Gotham's Knight stepped to the open window to take his leave, but was stopped by the commissioner's voice.

"Happy Mardi Gras, Batman…" The two said a silent goodbye, and Gordon turned his back to the window to look down at the boy sadly.

* * *

><p>Is he little guy not adorable? Born on Mardi Gras; What a way to come into the world. His name will be revealed in te next chapter, so please do read on! Thanks for reading! R&amp;R<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Months had passed, and her pudding hadn't spoken to her since the baby was born. She twirled her fingers in her blonde pigtails and bit her lower lip. Her biggest concern, besides her fear for her little baby boy out there somewhere, was that Mr. J's silence was due to his rage towards her.

At least she'd had a boy… if it'd been a girl, pudding might not have been so sweet. He was amused, when she first told him, and he had acted surprised and held her so gently, telling her how happy he was…

And then she lost his support over the months when he realized that he couldn't rely on a pregnant hench wench. However, for some reason that Harley couldn't place, he hadn't hit her or kicked her since the day she told him about the baby. He was so careful not to hurt her or the tiny life inside her, but now he wouldn't even speak to her or wave back at her when the saw each other in the halls of Arkham.

Ivy had been extremely supportive, and provided comfort to Harley that the baby would be fine, but it didn't matter how safe the baby was… she wanted him in her arms enough to make her cry until her tummy hurt.

Her only source of bravery as she crept down the dark hall was the thought of getting her little baby back to her, and having Mr. J happy again. She knew the way to his cell by heart, and she knew just how to get past the security without anyone even knowing she was out of bed.

Bare feet made no sound as she tiptoed masterfully to his cell door. She'd gotten sweet mister Two Face to pay off the guards to her hubby's cell, and left the key right outside the solitary confinement cell.

She opened the door and went in, closing it behind her. She stood at the doorway and blinked gently at his figure on the bed. He wasn't asleep… no, he was just sitting there, back against the wall and legs stretched out on his cot. His arms were crossed and his face was completely stoic.

It gave her the chills to see him so emotionless, and she couldn't help but whimper a bit as she spoke.

"Puddin'… I don't want you to be mad at me." She got no response from him, but she did notice his manic green eyes now rested on her shaking form. She continued, forcing the bravery for her son.

"I'm so scared, Mistah J. I want my baby back, and I want you back… why are ya so quiet?" Harley held his stare and knit her eyebrows together as tears collected at the corners of her baby blue eyes.

"Puddin talk to me! You're scaring me…" She sobbed, running to his bed and throwing herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist and crying into his prison shirt.

He looked down at her and his frown deepened. The child had caused so much drama in her, and all through her pregnancy he'd allowed her to have these little mood swings… He'd thought it was kind of cute, but now it was just Harley.

"Will you kindly stop snotting up my shirt? Laundry day isn't for a week." He grumbled, tilting her chin up. Those baby blue eyes pierced his and it made his shudder slightly. God, she was beautiful at the most inconvenient times. He ran a hand over her blonde head and smiled. "You aren't fat anymore."

Harley couldn't help but giggle at this. Her smile quickly faded, and she crawled up to rest her head against his chest, cuddling close to his side on the small cot.

"Oh Puddin', I wish you coulda seen him. He was so beautiful and, and he looked a lot like you. I want him back so much it hurts." She clutched at her chest, tears welling up once more.

The Joker observed her, finding pity in his heart at that little grimace she made. She truly wanted the brat... he could see it in her pain-filled face.

"…Harley, we talked about this." Joker muttered, kissing her forehead. "What did I say about families?"

Harley rubbed her nose and looked up at him. "…Crime is no place for squabbling brats… I know pudding, but maybe if you taught him to-"

"Harley, you cant teach insanity."

"But you taught me."

"No, I warped you… and I'd prefer not to do it again, since the last one I turned wacko clung to me and now sticks like a tick to my heart." He muttered in her ear, making her giggle. Funny how he could call her a parasite and still get a sweet little laugh out of her.

"…I got to write his name down, Puddin'." She mumbled softly.

"And what did you put down, Harls?" He asked, his good mood somewhat offset by this talk if babies again.

"I named his Happi… with an 'I' at the end. Happi Jack Quinnzel." She bit her lower lip and waited for approval.

Joker mulled his over for a moment, then shrugged with an amused grin. "Why on earth would you name the poor brat 'Happi'? I mean, I know we're clowns Harl, but that a bit insulting. Why not jester or, something practical?"

"Cause I was thinking that whenever he introduces himself, he'll always say 'I'm Happy'…. Because he is, Puddin'. Kinda funny, right?" Harley laughed half-heartedly, praying he got the joke.

Much to her relief he did chuckle and patted her back lightly. "Good work, Harls. A joke to last his entire life!"

She cuddled up against him, cooing softly at the praise.

"…But you shoulda seen him, Puddin'. How he curled up his little hands and made little baby noises… he was so cute. I've always wanted a little JJ, Mistah J. Don't you?"

"Harley baby, I'm the only J you'll ever need… Now, stop all this silly talk about babies and we'll get back to the way things were. Nothing funny ever comes from regret or remorse. Now, let me see that smile."

Harley's heart sunk when he told her to drop it, but she obeyed and was silent. She let a pretty smile grace her lips, and she melted as he kissed her tenderly. Through all the abuse, moments like these made it all worthwhile.

"Say, I bet Bud and Lou are missing their mommy. You still got that key Harv left for you?" He asked, holding a hand out.

"Sure thing Puddin'; My poor puppies, all alone in that cold warehouse. Can we go home, Mistah J?" She asked, pouting her lip slightly. She grinned as he nodded, and leapt up from the cot with him in tow.

Before the guards knew what had happened, the couple were out of the building and working their way through the sewers to their happy home.


	3. Chapter 3

The McDowall Home for Boys sat off the beaten path, in the woodland that sat north of Gotham city. It was well funded, and very large. Many wealthy benefactors had contributed to the long life and extensive success of the home. The building was a large Victorian home, four stories high, with multiple peaks in the roof and a large wraparound porch that boasted a beautiful array of purple flower baskets hanging on each corner. A white picket fence separated the large front yard from the dirt road it was located on. To be brief, it was the picture of perfection and serenity.

But on the front lawn, a huddle of boys circled around and shouted at two figures, kicking and clawing at each other as they tumbled about in the dew covered grass. The cheers and shouts were a mixture of taunts and warnings to the two youths that were tangled in a fist-fight that in a matter of seconds had turned into a wrestling match.

Happi kicked away from the other boy, Denis, and looked down at his tan slacks that were stained green. He shot him a glare through his bruised, swollen eyes and dove back towards the other child.

"Take it back!" The twelve year old yelled, delivering a sharp kick to Denis Mathew's side. Air forced from his lungs, Denis wheezed and grabbed Happi's leg, dragging him close and forcing his hands down into the grass.

"Your parents named you wrong! You're more like grumpy… or dopey. Aw, don't cry little Happi! You're only supposed to smile… betcha' don't even know how!" Denis taunted, grinning at the multiple cheers from the crowd at such a clever diss.

Hatred and entropy sparking in his eyes, Happi let loose a chaotic yell and with all the might he could draw from his frail arms, he forced the other boy back and bashed him into the grass below. He planted his knee in the middle of the other boy's chest and beat his hands against his face and head.

"_Happi Quinnzel! _You get over here this instant! You too, Denis." A woman yelled from the porch, making her way towards the group that was quickly separating.

Happi simply looked at her, confusion sparkling in his expression. "Huh?" He looked down at Denis, and moved away quickly. The boy was bleeding and bruised all over… had he done that? He didn't even remember.

Mrs. Madel stood Denis up and examined his cuts and bruises. "Denis go inside and wash your face… I'll talk to you in a minute." She said sternly, sending the blubbering and whimpering child into the house. "And as for you Happi… what's gotten into you!"

She grabbed a small rag from her pocket and went towards him, attempting to wipe the grass and mud stains from his face. She sighed with a deep frown and shook her head. "You aren't yourself lately. It's beginning to make me very upset with you, young man. I know you've been having trouble sleeping, but you cant take it out on other-" She noticed his gaze was off to the left, focused on something with widened eyes and a stock still face.

Mrs. Madel followed his gaze and saw a couple standing in front of their blue mini van, obviously shocked by the display they'd witnessed. No doubt they'd seen the entire fight, because as soon as they knew they were noticed, they nonchalantly made their way to the door and went inside to avoid the strange child.

Maggie Madel looked at the young boy and saw the anguish enter his features. He hung his head in shame, his black hair falling into his face and shielding his baby blue eyes. The older lady gave a sad sigh and placed a hand on his shoulder. Hoping to take his mind off of the embarrassment, she brushed his black bangs out of his face and smiled at him. "We can talk about the fight later I suppose… for now, It's nearly lunch time… go inside and wash up, okay?" She said, wiping a small tear on his cheek away.

"Yes Miss Maggie." He mumbled in his soft voice, sniffling a bit before wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

As Happi entered the house he saw the couple from earlier, watching one of the younger boys, Eric, play with finger paints in the front art-room. He pushed his way past a group of boys and went up the spiraling staircase, careful to keep hold of the railing as he went. The house was cool, but definitely not the safest place for kids who didn't know how to get around.

The young boy brushed at his pants, trying to remove the stains, but found it useless and gave a great sigh. Plucking a twig from his black mess of curly hair, Happi went into the bedroom, making his way to the bunk bed he shared with his only companion, Regie. The freckled red-headed lad sat high on the top bunk, beaming down as Happi entered the room.

Regie was three years older than Happi, at age 15, but was a great deal less intelligent. "What happens, Haps?" he greeted, crossing his arms and leaning over his bunk to look down at his friend.

Happi looked up at him and rolled his eyes. "Not a lot."

"Judging by your bruises and green-stained pants, I'm gonna go ahead and assume that's a load of bull. Spill it, junior." Regie let a wide smile creep across his face.

"…that rat Denis again… and parents were watching. It was completely embarrassing." Happi mumbled, pulling a shirt from his dresser/nightstand. He pulled off his torn, ragged shirt and replaced it with the white polo, taking a moment to brush his hands through his hair.

"What'd he do?" Regie asked, setting down his comic book and grinning.

"What he usually does… steals my stuff to try and get a rise out of me, and then insults my name whenever I go to get it back from him." Happi muttered, holding up a small picture that he'd had in his pocket.

"What did he steal this time?" The nosey boy pushed, eyeing the picture.

"It's a postcard from Gotham… Miss Maggie brought it back for me."He explained, holding the folded up picture for his companion to see.

Regie rolled his eyes and went back to lounging on his bed, comic in hand. "Well it's just a picture, dude… it's nothing getting your ass kicked over."

"Excuse me, but I was the one doing the ass kicking, you butt-wipe. And it isn't just a picture… it's my only picture, and someday when I go to Gotham, I'm gonna find exactly where they took it from and see it for myself." Happi explained, eyeing the small laminated postcard with hungry eyes, like it was a candy bar or a crisp twenty dollar bill. It was the young boy's only link to home, and his parents.

Regie sighed and looked at his younger friend. "Whatever, Haps. You sure look like you took most of the kicking, though."

"Oh, what do you know, carrot-top." Happi muttered, placing his picture under his pillow and getting up to leave.

"Go cry, emo-kid." Regie retorted, smiling. They picked on each other often, but always playfully… it was the best friendship they knew, and even then the two picked on one another constantly.

As Happi Quinnzel left the room, he saw Denis coming out of the bathroom and stopping to talk with his friends. They all looked over at Happi for a moment, then continued whispering.

The young boy only rolled his eyes and continued downstairs. He froze for a moment when he saw the couple smiling and laughing with little Eric, obviously falling deeper in love with the child ever second… nobody had ever cooed and fawned over him like that, but then again Happi had never been a very pleasant or sweet child. He was physically scrawny and a bit awkward, but emotionally he was always a little bit spaced-out or in deep contemplation. Sadness crept onto his features and he quickly walked past them and into the kitchen.

Miss Maggie stood at the counter with a couple of the boys who were assisting with lunch. One of them, the tall blonde haired boy, properly dubbed 'Twinkie' by the rest of the home, handed him a plate with a sandwich and apple on it.

"There you go, Joy." He rustled Happi's hair and went back to making a meal for the next kid.

"My name isn't Joy… i'm Happi."

"Of course you are, kid. lad to hear you're happy." His frown deepened as he was ignored, and went to one of the tables on the wraparound porch to eat.

He watched the kids on the lawn run and play tag football, and grinned at how undeniably male it was. He closed his eyes and pictured himself on a green lawn, running and playing with a tall, dark haired man with blue eyes, or maybe green or brown… He assumed he got the blue from his mother, since blue eyes and black hair weren't too common.

A smile crept onto his face and he could almost hear his voice, see his clothes and smell his cologne… calling him champ and bud, picking him up on his shoulders and swinging him around. Mom was calling from the house… it was time to go inside, she said. He'd laugh, and his father would laugh, and they'd obediently go inside as mom commanded. This was the American family… what every young boy wanted, and what the lucky ones were promised to have from birth. To want for nothing, and to love and be loved;

It wasn't a day-dream… it was HIS dream, and it was the only thing he had ever asked for. On birthdays, Christmas and New Years, he'd always secretly wished, hoped, and sometimes even prayed for his Forever Home.

The sensation of feeling wanted and the euphoria of being not-so-alone in the world; It made his heart flutter rapidly in his tiny chest and made him want to laugh out loud.

However, upon opening his eyes, he pushed the urge to laugh back and looked down at his meal. He suddenly wasn't feeling as hungry as before.

He stood and handed his plate to another kid beside him and rushed inside, hoping to find a quiet place so he could think. His wont from time to time was sitting at the window, looking out at the distant skyline of Gotham city, and watching as the sky turned black, and the city turned into glittering lights.

As darkness fell, Happi brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas before tossing the sheets on his bed back and sitting down. He rested his back against the head-board and pulled the picture of Gotham out from under his pillow. He looked at it, and as he rested his head on his pillow, he tried to imagine himself placed in one of those glowing apartments in the picture, without a care in the world.

His dreams, despite how much he'd yearned and wished for them to be about his forever-family, always ended up with him shaking and mumbling in his sleep, tossing and eventually waking himself; Every night was the same, and his nightmares were as vivid as they were disturbing. The worst part was his inability to remember what they were about. He did know, however, that before he woke up a dark figure would always loom over his shaking body, and then with a horrid screech, launch itself down at him, forcing his mind to lurch him back to reality.

Happi sat up and looked around the dark room full of kids, sleeping restfully in their cots while he sat and gazed out the window at the Gotham Skyline in the distance.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> And thus is the uneventful life of little Happi Jack Quinnzel. He's a bit too ooc for now, but he'll develope well as his plot progresses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author note: **Slow alert! This chapter is long and a bit of a filler, but i promise it's important. ENJOY!

* * *

><p>It was good for him. Mourning the loss of a child, even an adopted one, was crushing to anyone… It was good to try and move on, even if it was hard.<p>

This is, at least, what Alfred's advice had been. Bruce Wayne would have accepted the idea before Jason's untimely death, because he felt the boy needed a little social interaction outside of beating answers out of thugs every night.

A sibling, even a temporary one, was healthy for a boy like him… and then he died. The Wayne Foundation had loved Bruce Wayne's idea of fostering a child during the spring (for March, April and May), and this just happened to be the summer they'd decided to do it. For the company, it meant good attention and popularity.

For Bruce ( Alfred had said) it meant a first step to healing.

These were Bruce's thoughts as he watched Alfred pull from the driveway and head off to get the boy. In order to avoid this foster child from finding out about Batman, he'd decided to only use the outdoor entrance to the cave instead of the clock.

God forbid ANOTHER ward of his find out about the cape and cowl. At the moment, he and Batgirl were the only ones trusted to be flying around Gotham and his heart wasn't ready for a new robin.

Bruce took a drink of his coffee and sighed, leaving the front room and going into the study. He hardly used this room anymore, since he'd taken up the cowl, but he did find it refreshing to sit at a normal desk and take a moment to live in Bruce Wayne's world, instead of the Dark Knight's.

He looked out the window and his frown deepened. It was cloudy and dull for such a warm summer day. He felt like it should be bright, but instead he heard the soft patter or rain begin, and felt the tiny rumble of a distant thunder crash. The mansion was completely silent, which was why Bruce jumped at the old grandfather clock's chime. He didn't even remember getting the damned thing; since when had they owned the startling device!

His blue eyes moved to the paper work on the desk, and it bored him immensely. Where were the case files he'd been working on? Down in the cave; Where had all of the evidence, neatly bagged and organized been moved to? Oh, that's right… not in here.

Being Bruce Wayne for an entire summer was going to be no easy task, but he'd managed… seemed he'd always found a way to do that.

* * *

><p>The orphanage was in silent celebration. All the boys were rushing about, not stopping to speak to anyone, as they awaited the car that'd take one of them home for a foster summer of living in a mansion.<p>

Everyone was dressed well, with their hair combed and shoes shined. Truly, the best looking child would be the one most looked at.

Miss Madel stood by the stairs, helping the younger children tie their shoes and brush their hair. She was a practical woman and a stern one, but every boy in the home knew her like a mother and she had come to love them all as sons.

This is why, when young Happi came walking down the stairs in blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt, she crossed her arms and dropped her jaw. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him over to her. She began to tidy his messy, curly hair and licked her thumb to remove a black spot on his cheek.

"Where are your neat pants and your white shirt? I laid them out for you, didn't you see them on your nightstand this morning Happi?" She asked, finally making eye contact and showing concern in her features.

Happi's blue eyes were round and dark, not lively like that usually were. The pale blue glittered slightly with wetness, like he'd been crying.

"What's wrong, Happi?" She asked, brushing his hair out of his face lovingly, like she always did when he was sad or upset.

"...Denis tore up my postcard and put it in the toilet…" He mumbled, turning his gaze to his feet.

She studied him, surprised that this was the reason for so much sadness. "Happi, I'll get you a new one when I go shopping, but you need to get ready. Bruce Wayne is fostering someone… do you know who he is?" She asked him.

Happi nodded. "I know… but I don't think he's gonna pick me."

"And why's that?" She asked, standing up and continuing to fix his hair and straighten his shirt's wrinkles.

"Miss Maggie, we'd be here all day listing things."

"Nonsense. You're a wonderful little boy and I think that if you wish hard enough, you'll get picked."

Happi twisted his head to look up at her. "Yeah?"

"Mhm." She smiled kindly, taking her tiny chain necklace off and putting it around his neck so it hung down into his shirt. It was gold with a tiny cross on it, and she'd long treasured it… but she supposed he would need it more than she.

"When he sees you, I want you to hold onto the cross and close your eyes and wish with every piece of your heart, okay? Will it to happen."

"Like a jedi mind-trick?" He asked, looking up at her with a bright grin.

The stout woman rolled her eyes and tapped his nose with her finger softly. "Yes, like a jedi-mind trick."

With that, Happi hugged her and ran off to sit in the front room and watch from the window. His blue gaze traveled to Regie, who sat on the front room couch. His ginger hair was brushed and he was wearing shorts and a tucked in green shirt. He wore his large, 'one size fits all' glasses and wore an expression of disgust.

"Aren't you spiffy?" Happi teased, grinning a toothy smile at his friend, who didn't find it amusing at all.

"Shut up wise-ass. Miss Maggie made me wear it… dunno why you get away with stuff so easy." Regie muttered, glaring at his own outfit with disgust.

"I just have mind-blowing charisma skills." Happi sighed as he leaned back and looked out the window.

He practiced his wishing, and decided just how he'd do it without looking too insane.

All too soon, the black car rolled up the long driveway and stopped on the gravel right in front of the house. Everyone rushed to the front room to look and saw the old man get out of the car.

"Who's that?"

"That isn't Bruce Wayne!"

"Sssh, quiet idiot! That's like, his driver or something."

"Yeah, you didn't think Bruce Wayne himself was gonna come get one of us himself didja?"

The ramble continued, but Happi drowned it out. He pressed his lips to a thin line and rushed to the front hallway to peak around the corner.

Miss Maggie asked the older man in, and took his hat. Happi's heart skipped when he made eye contact with the strange man and made an attempt to race into the kitchen.

"Oh Happi, come back for a moment. Say hello to Mr. Pennysworth."

He froze and stopped, turning on one foot to approach the man. He simply stared up at him, looking at Miss Maggie who discretely urged him to say hello.

"Afternoon. And, it's just Alfred, please." The man greeted, holding a hand out to shake.

Happi eyed the man's hand and took a deep breath. He stuck a hand out and shook with him, sighing with relief that the handshake seemed acceptable.

"Nice to meet you, sir." Happi squeaked, teeth clenching back together nervously as he looked up at the man.

Alfred smiled and released the boy's hand. "Pleasure's all mine, Happi was it?"

Happi nodded rapidly before running off around the kitchen corner to get over the shock of social interaction with an adult other than Miss Maggie.

Alfred looked at the stout Mrs. Madel and smiled. "Shy fellow, is he?"

"Most of them are but, yes… Happi's very reserved. Don't get me wrong, he's lively as any boy but… very mature for someone his age." Miss Maggie held a hand inside. "Please, do look around. Just find me when you find someone. Anyone particular age you were thinking?"

"Well master Wayne did hope for someone he could spend time with… perhaps twelve, thirteen?" He asked.

"Sadly we've only the older boys and a couple little ones…"

Alfred nodded and looked into the front room at all the boys, who'd made themselves look busy; But he could tell they were all watching from the corner of their eye, hoping to be noticed.

"Well, how old is that little Happi chap?" He asked, not seeing him in the front room.

"Eleven." The adults turned around to find him standing there, grinning softly. "I'm eleven but I'm turning twelve on March 8th."

Alfred blinked, nodding slowly. "How very odd… That's Mardi Gras this year, isn't it?" He asked Mrs. Madel.

"We don't celebrate that here… the younger children wouldn't understand it, anyway."

"What's Mardi Gras?" Happi asked, looking at Alfred and Mrs. Madel.

Alfred chuckled, getting down one knee to Happi's level. "It's a celebration in Gotham City… they have a large parade and throw beads... we usually just watch it on television, though. "

"Oh…" Happi sighed, looking sadly down at his feet.

Alfred looked up at Miss Maggie and grinned, giving her a tiny nod. She put a hand over her mouth and squeaked with joy at the meaning. "Happi, why don't you show our guest to the kitchen, and go upstairs?" She asked, nodding at him.

Happi blinked at her in confusion, and led Alfred to the table before going back to the hallway where Miss Madel waited to hug him.

He looked up at her joyful face. "What?" He asked.

"Go pack your things, Happi. I'm so glad for you." She gave a happy sigh and hugged him before shooing him upstairs.

Halfway up the steps, Happi realized why Miss Maggie had been so happy for him.

It'd worked… wishing had worked… and he was going to a foster home, to live like a rich kid. He blinked his bright eyes and ran up the rest of the stairs. He threw his things into a suitcase under his bed and hurriedly grabbed his toothbrush from the bathroom.

He passed Denis on the way back downstairs, and stuck his tongue out at him before returning to his rush. His black hair was again falling into his face as he ran, but he didn't care.

As he entered the kitchen, he found Alfred signing the last document and giving a short bow to Mrs. Madel who shyly dipped her head back at him.

Alfred looked at the boy and smiled. "Have everything you need?" He asked, and Happi nodded with a wide smile.

"Come along then. We'll stop to get you something to eat on the way back to Gotham. It'll be dark before we get back." He sighed, looking at his wristwatch.

Happi hugged Miss Madel goodbye, and waved to Regie in the front room who gave him a thumbs up.

The interior or the way was tan leather, and cleaner than anything he'd ever seen. The neat floor mats and tall ceilings were deliciously luxurious and it made him a bit awkward, being so out of place.

Alfred got into the front seat and smiled at him. "Happi, hm? That's a rather peculiar name. I suppose you can't very well be sad much, can you?"

Happi laughed halfheartedly, not wanting to point out his particular dislike for comments like that. "Yeah… I never quite found out why my parents named me Happi."

If they'd named him 'happy', then why didn't they want him? If they didn't like him, they would have given him a horrible name like 'Sad' or 'Ruprect' or…'Slaggathor.' The ridiculous names made him smile softly to himself. All too soon they left the twisting turning hill country and just as the sun was completely gone, they made it to the bright neon lights of inner Gotham.

Happi looked out his window with his jaw dropped and his blue eyes turned up in wonderment at the glass buildings and skyscrapers that loomed in gothic-beauty over him. The stone structures of old intermingled with the brightly-lit towers of the modern age.

"It's beautiful…" He muttered dreamily, not caring if Alfred heard or not.

A strange light in the sky caught his gaze and he instantly pointed it out. "What's that? That spotlight?" He asked, rolling down his window. Happi leaned out the window and unbuckled his seat belt. He hung halfway out of the car, eyeing the odd symbol in the sky.

"Master Happi, come back into the car." Happi complied, but looked to Alfred for an answer. "That is the Bat-Signal… someone in Gotham needs Batman's help."

"Bat…man?" Happi asked. He'd heard the older boys talk about him, but never in detail. They watched it on the television, but he didn't care for the news… it was too sad.

"He's a local Vigilante. He stops criminals and saves lives every night. Running around in a bat costume and fighting villains like The Joker."

"Vigilante? Joker?" Alfred only sighed at how naïve the boy was.

"It's not important... just a myth anyhow." Alfred muttered, trying to move on.

Happi, slightly disappointed that the interesting topic was being changed, leaned back into his seat and began to doze. The passing of bright lights turned to blur and he soon fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The Batmobile rolled to a stop in its usual place in the cave, making a brief swarm of bats fly about due to the roar of the engines. It died down, and so did the bats. Batman felt slightly guilty, giving in to the urge to go out. He simply couldn't stand not being active, especially at night. He had promised to reserve the cape and cowl for when he could find good excuses to slip away from whatever boy he'd be watching over this spring.

Removing his cowl, Batman tapped a few keys on his computer and watched as a car pulled into the driveway. Bruce checked his watch and smirked at his perfect timing before leaving the monitor to freshen up and look like he hadn't just been fighting thugs.

* * *

><p>Alfred opened the back door and gently prodded at Happi's shoulder. "We're here." He sighed, watching as the young boy was broken from his sleep lazily. He stretched his back and unbuckled, exiting the car.<p>

The sleep in his eyes instantly vanished as he caught sight of the house- No. House wasn't the right word to describe it. This place was a Castle. Pointed roof tops and a front lawn bigger than anything he'd ever seen. The house was old, but well preserved. His shocked gaze turned to Alfred with a smile.

"This. Is. Awesome." He squeaked, holding his hands up to his face to try and hide the excitement entering his features.

Alfred chuckled and led the boy inside to the front parlor where he took his coat and bags before leaving him to look around for a minute. "Let me put these in your room. Master Bruce should be coming to greet you in a moment."

Happi hardly heard his words as he gazed around the front room. Tall ceilings that extended seemingly forever, due to the darkness, and luxurious furniture of deep leather and oak or, some type of wood.

He spotted the large fireplace mantle and very carefully approached, slightly unnerved by it. He'd only seen fireplaces like this in horror films, but never up close. His blue eyes moved up at the large hanging portrait of a couple. He tipped his head to the right and squinted, trying to read the small font below the painting.

"Those are my parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne. My father started the Wayne Foundation."

Happi flinched and spun to look at the figure in the door way. In the dark he could only tell it was a man and that it was not Alfred. He inhaled sharply and spoke as smoothly as he could, without being overcome by his social awkwardness.

"I-I'm Happi." He muttered, rubbing his arm nervously.

Bruce gave him a sideways look, blinking at the boy's odd remark. "Oh well… I'm glad you're… happy?" He said, eyebrows pulled together with confusion.

"No! No I mean… Not happy as in Happy, but, Happy as in the name Happi; Oh but that isn't to say I'm not, you know, Happy happy like emotion wise because I am very happy to be here in your house cause it's amazing and big…" he rambled on before hanging his head and groaning at his own stupidity.

Happi finally took a long breath and calmed himself. "I'm sorry."

"You've had a hectic day. My name is Bruce… and you're… Happy?" Bruce commented, smiling slightly at the young boy.

"No; Well yes! My name is Happi, with an 'I' at the end… Happi Quinnzel."

Bruce's face flushed of color and he stared wide eyed at the boy. Happi didn't notice Bruce's sudden change in expression, because Alfred entered the room at the moment.

"Ah, I see you two have finally met. Master Happi, your room is prepared for you upstairs." Alfred looked up at Bruce's face in confusion for a moment before noticing a subtle eyebrow lift. It was that little signal Master Wayne sometimes gave for 'we need to talk'. He'd become an expert at reading his emotions, even though they were so subtle.

Happi looked at Bruce and smiled. "Can I go see my room?" He asked politely, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

"Go right ahead… it's the uh, first door to the right upstairs." Bruce tried his hardest to control the urgency rising up in his stomach, urging him to take action, even though there was obviously no threat from the child.

Bruce noted, upon seeing the boy in the light, that he was most certainly Harley's son. The heart shaped face, with blue eyes and a slightly upturned nose; He'd seen the baby, and he did recall it having black hair. The birth certificate had read 'Happi Jack Quinnzel', but as far as Bruce knew he had already been adopted.

He quietly damned himself for not making sure the child was already taken before completely blocking it from his busy mind.

As Happi climbed the steps, Bruce looked at Alfred and gave a deep sigh. "… Make sure he gets to bed, and then meet me in the cave, please Alfred?" He asked, briskly walking past the butler and to the alternate entrance to the cave.

* * *

><p>"Sir i am terribly sorry. I had no idea that the boy was-"<p>

"You couldn't have known… it wasn't put on his records, even." Bruce sat at his computer, clicking through files and finding Joker and Harleys'.

Alfred watched him and couldn't help but let his frown deepen as Batman created another file and linked the two parent files to it. He named it 'Happi J. Quinn' and began typing a description of the boy.

"Master Bruce, surely he doesn't need a criminal file. He's done nothing wrong. In fact he's been a joy the entire time he's been with me. The whole care ride he was courteous to say the very least." Alfred watched his master continue typing, obviously deeply in thought about this.

On one hand, Happi was the son of a murdering psychopath and his punching-bag sometimes-girlfriend. On the other, he reminded Bruce of himself n many ways at that age. Confused, vulnerable and above all alone; Bruce had at least been with Alfred when his parents died, but Happi had never know them and had grown up not knowing if they were alive or not.

It was for the best that Happi grow up without such terrible influences. But another thought settled into Bruce's head and it made him stop typing. Why was he so worried about this? He was just a child… no threat. He wasn't even aware of the existence of Joker or Harley, let alone his relation to them.

Bruce closed the file and nodded. "You're right, Alfred. I'm… worrying over nothing, aren't I?"

"To be honest sir, yes; He's no different from any other child we could have taken in." Alfred nodded his head and looked at his watch.

"It's late, sir. Perhaps you should get some sleep? If Bruce Wayne is to go on a day trip with master Happi tomorrow, he can't be bothered by courageous deeds or crime tonight." Alfred went to the large flip switches and turned off the majority of the care lights, leaving on only the main one that led upstairs.

"Yes, thank you Alfred. Go ahead and get some rest… I'll be up in a moment." He said, entering the computer to delete Happi's file.

Satisfied, Alfred climbed the steps and went off to bed.

Bruce stopped mid deletion, and stared at the screen. Looking between the two pictures of Harley and Joker, he could most definitely see subtle similarities to their son.

Thank god he hadn't gotten that smile, or the laugh. With this thought, Bruce deleted the file, seeing no need for it in his criminal database, and went upstairs into the house, turning off the main light.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Bruce seems rather trusting of Happi... good idea or bad idea? Nobody knows! Next chapter, we'll see how our favorite clowny couple are doing these days. Surely MUCH closer, since they had a child together ( PFFFT! yeah right... Prepare for a little more abuse, Harley! 3)


	6. Chapter 6

"Harley where's the damn bullets!"

"We're all out, Puddin'. You used the whole box."

The two clowns were crouched behind the bank counter, both gasping for breath and nursing bleeding cuts. The security had been a breeze, but competition was not as kind.

You never know just who else is looking for money in this town, and the menu for tonight was a combination of Malone and Black-Mask.

Joker ducked a bullet that grazed the top of his head, provoking a cringe. "Then give me the Uzi!"

"You said to leave it in the car!"

"Harley you incompetent blonde headed little-!" A blast rocked the marble counter they hid behind, and Harley gave a loud 'eep' of fear as she clung to Joker.

He heard the large group reload and begin shooting again. Joker's eyes searched madly for a way out of his situation, but he found nothing of use.

"Mistah J make it stop!" Harley's shrill voice cried over the roar of pistols.

"Let go of me!" He squirmed out of her grip and brushed off his jacket sleeve. "You're no fun when you're upset, Harls. Laugh a little!" Joker tilted her chin up, and granted her a devilish grin.

"Baby even shrapnel makes you look good." This evoked a little happy squeak from her, and she sat up a bit to kiss him.

"Come out, freaks. You're gonna look real nice, strung up on Black Mask's wall."

"You masks can have Bozo, but the girl is Malone's."

"You can have her. She probably bites, anyway."

Laughter sounded from the twelve or so mobsters, making Harley squirm a bit at their remarks.

"Just ignore them, pet." Joker tapped a finger on his Harlequin's nose and smiled. "Daddy's gotta go to work, baby girl."

"Seeya real soon, daddy." With that, she rolled out from behind the desk, dodging bullets as she leapt and flipped away.

"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me!" Her sing-song voice called from all different points in the room.

One man, obviously high up in the Malone family, motioned for the Black Masks to follow her. "Get the bitch. We can handle happy boy."

As the Malone family turned back towards the marble counter, they all stepped back to see Joker sitting on the desk, holding two grenades in his hands. "Hello, boys."

They all dropped their guns, eyes widened. "Easy there, Joker. We're just doin' as the boss said…"

"Oh I understand perfectly but, you see… I find myself with a bit of a dilemma. On one hand…" Joker very carefully tapped his finger on the left hand's grenade, just barely missing the ring each time.

"By interrupting my little heist, you've wasted my joker bombs and bullets which, might I add, are not cheap… And then, on the other hand..." Joker looked towards the right hand's grenade and teased at the ring, chuckling at how nervous it made the mobsters.

"You called my darling little Harley a bitch and then set Black Mask's loyal dogs on her. I don't take kindly to anyone chasing after her, except when it's me with a knife."

"W-we'll just call them off for you, just take it easy... we're reasonable men." The head of the Malone family's gunners chuckled, sweat beads rolling off his forehead.

Joker stood and approached them, careful to keep his fingers in the grenade rings. "As am I. So, I'll be taking 40% of what you've collected here today…" he motioned towards the large stacks of carefully bagged money. "And we'll all go home happy, unscathed and bullet-free. Savvy, gentlemen?" His wicked smile made the majority of the men cringe. He tapped at the grenade pin and nearly pulled the ring.

"Stop! - Alright, fine… 40% take it, it's yours!" The answer made him smile and chuckle.

"I knew we could work things out. Harley!" Joker called into the vault, turning his head to see her curvy silhouette sway into the light, a bloody crow-bar grasped in her velvet-gloved hands and a large duffle bag of money slung over her shoulder.

"All finished back here, Mistah J." She giggled, dropping her crow bar and prancing over to press her body close to her puddin's side. He grinned down at her as she lifted one leg to rest on his hip.

"Gentlemen, thank you for your time. Come along, my dear." He sighed, grenades still in hand. He lifted one arm for her to hold onto, and escorted her out of the bank.

When he got to the door, Joker stopped and turned to look at the group. They all watched him with utter horror as he grinned and pulled the pins. He tossed the grenades over his shoulder and waved. "Chow."

The glass doors swung closed behind the clowny couple as they walked to their car. The explosion sounded and sent the glass windows and door splintering out into the street. Fire erupted after it, followed by the screams of police sirens.

The couple casually drove from the crime scene in an inconspicuous car.

Joker leaned back and crossed his feet on the dashboard, sighing to himself. "Well, that'll be enough petty robbery for awhile. Honestly, if money were no object I'd never waste time on things like this."

Harley drove steadily, removing her cowl and mask. Her white face powder was running, but she didn't bother to wipe at it. Her mind was elsewhere, at the moment. Joker eyed her and crossed his arms.

"You seem distracted, Harl. What on this earth could be more important than me?"

"Huh? Oh! Nothing, Puddin'. I'm just a little tired." She lied, biting her lower lip. Joker pouted his face and tilted his head at her.

"Poor Harley… but, really, what's bothering you? And if you ever lie to me again, I'll cut your tongue out."

Harley flinched at his bitter tone and looked down at the steering wheel. "…I've just been thinking about-"

"Don't say it! If you're going to bring up that thing I told you not to bring up, I swear to God I'll-"

"No I-… I wasn't thinking about that, Puddin." Again a lie, but a cleverly disguised one; "I was just thinking that, Mardi Gras is coming up… and I thought maybe we could do something?"

"Harley, I've already been planning something for months on Mardi Gras! Batman won't know what hit him. The parade goes right through main street, and a bomb on every float is no cheap task… don't you remember me telling you?" He asked, irritation rising in his voice.

Harley Quinn flinched, blue eyes turning sadly downward. "Sorry, Pud. I'm just not feeling like my old clowny self."

They parked the car an alley over from their hideout and entered the dark warehouse to find all the henchmen out and about. Worthless, good for nothings; Joker hung his jacket on the coat stand and went, as usual, to his study.

Harley sat herself down on the couch and brushed her hands through her blonde pigtails. She really did want to spend Mardi gras with Mistah J, she really did… and she wanted to share his enthusiasm about the big prank he had planned, this time of year always made her think about Happi.

He'd be turning twelve this year… she'd missed so much of his life, and it burned her mind with sorrow to try and picture him. All she saw was her baby, but she knew he was big now. She gently hugged herself, and forced the thoughts and memories from her head.

Even if Puddin' wouldn't celebrate the most abstract holiday of the year with her, she'd still find a way to make him happy. And this gave her a pretty idea.

Presents! Pretty sparklies and jewels, vases and statues worth more than anything they owned; it brought a smile to her face and she began to expand on the idea.

The museum was always an option, but it was too obvious. She needed someplace that wasn't robbed every other week. Resting her head in her hands, she turned on the television and caught the end of some news report.

"…was taken in yesterday by Bruce Wayne, who will be fostering him for three months. In other news, Gotham Bank was robbed and demolished this evening by what looks like the Malone family and the Black-Masks…."

A single name stuck out to her. Bruce Wayne; that handsome devil would have some pretties that were unobtainable anywhere else except in that big, fancy house of his. Even if there wasn't anything of Mistah J's taste in that pretty boy's mansion, she could always sell it and just give him the money.

A happy squeak sounded, and she rushed off to do a little scheming over a cup of hot cocoa. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Well this chapter got a bit slow, but i do love writing these two.


	7. Chapter 7

Agh, sorry guys. This was a hard chapter to write, due to the fact that it's a filler between the good parts. It's a good chapter, however, mostly due to the fact that it builds a bit of a relationship between Happi and Bruce before everything goes to hell, but that comes later. For now, character development.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Spinning, rushing, flashing; All the movement assaulted his eyes. There was buzzing, whistles and voices circling all around him, like a whirl pool. '<em>Or Tsunami.' <em> Happi thought, his senses filled with Gotham. He was becoming aware of a pulse; A strange heart beat through the entire city, like veins all through a body. Why did he see the world like this? Other people didn't think like this… deeply observing every little detail.

It was overwhelming, and it was beautiful… but above all it was just scary. He clung close to Bruce's side, eyes darting from person to person, car to car, building to building rapidly. He felt his eyes might bug out of his skull in an attempt to escape.

In a quiet attempt to keep his composure, he lifted his camera and started snapping pictures. Bruce had lent it to him, to give him something to do on not so busy days. Scrap booking was healthy (so Bruce had heard) and the boy seemed to be taking to it rather well.

Bruce looked down at the boy, noticing a flinch every now and then as a car would go by a bit too quickly, or someone's phone would ring. It was intriguing to watch his movements and mannerisms. Bruce had always been a people watcher, but this boy was unlike anything he'd seen before. Not crazed or manic like asylum inmates, but not entirely like the simple pedestrians of Gotham.

He gave the boy a gentle nudge and chuckled when Happi gasped and looked up. "Huh?"

"You okay? You're looking a little flushed. Want to sit down somewhere?"

Happi nodded slowly, swallowing nervously. "Yeah… I'm a little dizzy."

Bruce looked around. He was so used to the hustle of a big city, it was hard to imagine anything else. "Let's stop for lunch… We've still got a while before we have to go back to the house."

The two stopped at a small restaurant near the Gotham boardwalk. It was a simple burger place that reeked of grease and meat. The two sat down, and Bruce looked out the window. Quite a few people on this side of town he recognized. On patrol, he often came to the boardwalk and he knew quite a few of these people. Thugs, hired guns, gangsters… he remembered so many of them, it was hard not keep himself in his chair, knowing they could very well all be up to something.

Bruce was pulled out of his trance by the click of a camera. He turned to see Happi, snapping pictures of him. He lowered the camera and blinked at Bruce. "… You don't go out much, do you?"

"You're one to talk." Bruce teased, leaning back in the booth.

Happi looked down and gave a slight shrug. "… Do you just not like people? Alfred said you don't have many people over, and that's why you're always so quiet."

Bruce sighed, looking out the window again. "I don't have a problem with people in general… just the bad ones."

"I've never met a bad person… only a bully at the orphanage, but that isn't the same." Happi looked at his camera as silence fell over their table once more. In an attempt to stop the awkwardness, he spoke up again. "Do you have any friends?"

"…Yes."

"How many?" Happi asked innocently, curious blue eyes crisp with attention.

"A few…" Bruce mumbled simply, trying to think if he really had any friends. Everyone he knew was either an ally, an enemy or Alfred.

"I have one… He's a little older than me, but we shared a bunk bed back at the boys' home. Kinda freaky, but I guess he was okay… he never beat me up." Happi reflected, crossing his arms and leaning back.

The food arrived at the table, and as Bruce thanked the server Happi snapped a picture of him. The waitress gave the boy a confused look, and then a baffled look at Bruce.

"…Sorry." Bruce gave a slight shrug. The waitress bustled away and Happi slumped in his chair, looking at the greasy food.

As hungry as he felt, there was an unshakeable quiet between he and Bruce that made moving or speaking uncomfortable. He awkwardly shuffled himself upright and began to scotch out of the booth.

"Bathroom." Happi mumbled bashfully, hoping that maybe a minute alone would be enough to calm his senses.

As he passed the front door, a man in a black hoodie pushed past him, knocking Happi off balance with a rather sudden shoulder jerk. Shocked, Happi stared after the man who quickly approached the counter. His blue eyes widened with alarm as the man pulled out a gun and aimed it right at the nice waitress lady who had served their table.

"No! Please don't…" The woman pleaded, instantly pulling her hands into the air and shrinking away.

"Put my money in a to-go bag. Fucking now, bitch!" The man demanded, aiming the gun towards a few people who approached to stop him. They all instantly backed off.

Happi stared in disbelief, jaw hanging open. There was nothing he could think to do… every rational thought in his head left him and he just stared in silent bafflement. Why was this man doing this? Who was he? Without thinking, he allowed his voice to slip out in a tiny whisper. "Why?"

The man shot a nasty glare towards the child and shook the gun at the lady. "The fuck you lookin' at, little man?"

Happi tried to force another sound out of his tightened throat, but nothing came out.

Bruce stood, assessing the situation. The man was obviously aggressive, and Happi was his main focus. The weapon was aimed at the woman, and he was in clear peripheral for the man to see. He couldn't risk creating too big an attraction to himself, nor could he just let the man just get away. In an instant, however, the situation changed drastically.

The man aimed his gun towards Happi.

The boy's blue eyes were round with fear, his fists shaking as he clenched them tightly. Something interfered in his left hand, and he looked down. His camera; Carefully, he pushed the flash button on the side.

Happi let out a gasp as the man approached. At first, he feared the man had seen him mess with his camera. Much to his relief, however, the man had only moved closer with the gun… not the greatest situation, but better than getting caught. He tilted his chin up, blue eyes looking down the barrel of the gun at the man. "…Why?"

"What'd you say?" The man demanded, cocking the gun readily. "You wanna die!"

"N-….No, I don't." Happi forced out, eyes unmoving.

The man seemed slightly confused, hearing something other than begging from a child. "Fuck's wrong with you?" He asked, bumping Happi's forehead with the gun.

Police sirens sounded outside. Bruce gave a slight sigh of relief at knowing someone called the police, but he didn't relax. He was watching carefully for his window of opportunity… when would it be convenient for Bruce Wayne, regular citizen, to take matters into his own hands without getting too much attention? He eyed the boy's hands, and saw the camera pointed up.

Happi readied the camera button, eyes darting to Bruce carefully. Bruce was a bit taken back by this. Had the boy read his mind? It was impressive to think that an eleven year old had already formed an escape for himself.

The gunman bumped the gun against Happi's head and pulled the child in front of him like a shield. The police instantly lowered their weapons outside.

Happi bit his lower lip, focusing on his task. Bruce had clearly gotten his message, and now all it was going to take was an execution of the plan. He took a steady breath and closed his eyes. If there was a God, then he was getting an extremely loud prayer from that blue eyed boy at the moment.

Forcing his muscles into movement, he pulled his camera up and snapped a picture into the man's face, setting off a bright flash. Happi dropped down to his knees and crawled away as the gunman was dazed. Seconds later, the gun went off.

Happi secretly thanked his lucky star and crawled under a booth, hands over his head. Bruce had been right there, ready to take the man down after Happi got away. The gun was slid away and Bruce along with another man held the shouting gunman to the floor as police entered.

* * *

><p>After a while of police investigation and questioning of patrons and workers, the police finally left and by then it was nearly six. Happi still sat under the booth, knees tucked up to him with his camera in hand. He scrolled through the pictures, stopping to delete blurry ones now and then. He looked up when Bruce finally came over and leaned down to look under the table.<p>

"We can leave now." He offered a hand to Happi.

Happi gave a sigh of relief and slid out from under the booth. "Finally. My legs were falling asleep." He gave a soft chuckle.

Bruce smirked and opened the door for the boy. As they walked back to the main boardwalk street, Happi became preoccupied by a seagull. With a delighted laugh, he chased it down the pier until it stopped hopping and flew off. Happi watched it, smiling lightly.

Bruce placed a hand on Happi's shoulder. "Smart thinking today, Happi. Not a lot of other kids would have been as fast as you."

Happi looked up, almost shocked by the approval. "…Really?"

Bruce nodded curtly. "You're a brave kid… don't ever let people like that scare you."

Happi looked down, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "…I still don't understand. Why can't he just work like everyone else? Hurting people isn't right… didn't anyone ever tell him?"

"Maybe.. maybe not. Some people just grow up differently. Maybe his parents taught him to be that way." Bruce reflected, looking off the pier at the sunset over the water's horizon.

Happi looked up at Bruce. "…Do you think my parents hurt people, and that's why they gave me up? So I wouldn't learn to be like them?"

Bruce looked down at the boy, seeing the utter innocence of the question. For a moment, he was afraid the boy really did know about his own lineage. With a sigh of relief, Bruce drummed his fingers on the wooden railing. "I'm sure they'd be…. Very proud of you, regardless of what they've done."

The two stood in silence for awhile longer before Alfred pulled up in the limo. Happi smiled and raced off to get into the backseat. Alfred looked back at him and smiled. "How was your day, Master Happi?"

"I stopped a robbery!" Happi declared, arms thrown up in the air. Bruce got into the passenger seat and buckled himself in with a sigh.

"It's a long story." Bruce muttered.

Alfred shot him a sideways glare. "A long story that I'll be hearing about all the way home, I presume?" He asked, looking back as Happi had already begun telling about the events.

"Just drive…" He whispered, rubbing his temples.

* * *

><p>Happi sat in his bed, going through his camera once more before bed. He hummed the star wars theme softly, stopping on his picture of the criminal. His self confidence was sky rocketing at this point, knowing that he saved people today.<p>

It was no wonder super heroes did their jobs so often.

The door knocked and Happi stopped humming. "Come in."

Alfred entered the room and smiled. "Did you brush your teeth?"

Happi nodded rapidly, smiling lightly. "Yep."

Alfred nodded and turned on a lamp. "Shall I leave this on so it isn't too dark?"

"Yes please… Hey Alfred?" Happi asked, lying down in his bed. "Can you tell Bruce that this was the best day of my life? And that he isn't what I expected him to be… he's really nice." He brushed a hand through his black hair and smiled lightly.

Alfred smiled lightly and dipped his head. "I will be sure he gets the message. Goodnight, master Happi."

"G'night Alfred." Happi yawned, curling up in his bed. Blue eyes flickered shut and he was asleep within minutes.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: God this chapter too so long to write, and it may be edited later on to fix a couple of things, but for now it's fine. Everything is coming together and soon this plot'll start rolling right along. LONG CHAPTER! o_e

* * *

><p>She'd really expected more security. Being the home of a rich play-boy like Brucie, it wouldn't have surprised her if he had a swat team lining his gate. But, much to her delight, the gate around the manor was just tall… like that could stop anyone. She did admit, however, that scaling smooth iron bars in her silky costume was rather challenging. It had taken tremendous upper body strength to hoist herself up the gate hand by hand. Harley often wondered what it was exactly that Ivy had injected her with to give her abilities that would challenge Olympic athletes. Whenever she did think about it, however, she usually stopped herself from coming to a conclusion… she didn't want to know what was coursing through her veins at the moment.<p>

Harley eyed the glass window of what looked like a study, and she grinned at the many antiques she could see just sitting out in the open. Perched on the window sill, she pulled a toy from her bag; A nifty little toy Harley had 'borrowed' from Cat Woman for making precision cuts in glass.

She placed the pin on the glass, and smiled at her cleverness as she began to position the circular device. Old Brucie wouldn't even know he was robbed until she was a mile away-

The red and black jester squeaked as the glass shattered beneath her hands. Perhaps it took a more gentle touch? She tossed the worthless tool over her shoulder and crawled through the completely shattered window. Her soft jester shoes tapped on the floor as she swiftly made her way through the room. Her blue eyes glittered as she passed each pretty item. No, it couldn't be just anything. It had to be something special… something Mr. J would actually like.

As she left the study and proceeded to search the entire downstairs, she began to get the feeling that nothing here was going to be good enough. The house was so incredibly bland and boring compared to the lively and colorful hideout that she and puddin' had been calling home in recent months.

With a pout, Harley leaned against the banister. "Stupid Bruce Wayne and his stupid boring house… I don't have time to go anywhere else tonight! How's a girl supposed to find the perfect gift without having a little variety!" She mumbled to herself, careful to keep her voice hushed.

From the corner of her eye, up the grand stair case, she spotted a rather interesting glass case. She worked her way up, and grinned to find a grand display of fine jewels and rare cut stones. The one that caught her eye was a diamond cut emerald, encased in a thin black ring. The gem was like her Puddin's manic green eyes before he torched a van, and the black was like half of her costume.

She needed to have it… there was no doubt, it was a perfect little something that said 'I love you' without screaming too loudly, because she knew how the Joker hated when she yelled.

With itchy hands, she began to think of the most efficient way to deal with this delicate situation… she concluded, it would be done quietly and gracefully. With a gleeful giggle, she executed her ingeniously cunning extraction of the prize.

Happi shot out of bed at the sound of a loud smash just down the hall, followed by a womanish squeak. He furrowed his eyebrows and swung his legs over the side of the bed. For a moment he just sat there, listening with perked ears and bright eyes.

His bare feet met the cold wood floor beneath him and he stood. With careful steps, as not to creak, he tip toed to the door to listen. Nothing; Happi crossed his expression with seriousness and opened the door a bit so he could see. The hall was dark, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust. He stepped out into the hall, looking down both halls.

Nothing; There was nobody in the hallway. He did, however, see the shattered glass case just down from his bedroom.

"…Hello?" He whispered, stepping away from his door and towards the broken case. Before he could speak again, an arm flew around his neck and another arm held a knife to his throat.

"Don't make a sound… say one word and I'll gut ya', got it baby-Wayne?" A woman whispered in his ear.

"Baby-Wayne?" The boy questioned, eyebrow raised. "Oh, no Bruce isn't my real-!"

The woman pressed the knife against his throat as a door opened in the hall around the corner.

Happi silently cursed himself for not having his camera with him, like last time. He made a mental note that, if he lived through this, he would never let the camera leave his hands again.

"Alfred, what happened?" Bruce's voice came from down the dark hallway.

"I heard something break."

Harley panicked, glancing around for an exit. She clutched the boy tightly to her a shield and cursed herself for ever thinking this was a good idea. With a soft squeak, she dragged the boy down the hallway, towards a large window decorated with bright colors and pattern. She blasted her giant pop gun at it and held the boy tight.

"You! Stop!" The butler called behind her.

In a sudden lapse of judgment, she ran at the broken window and jumped. Harley felt the sickening sensation of falling in her stomach, before just barely snagging a tree branch with her hands.

A scream reached her ears and she instinctively let one hand go. She reached down and grasped the child's wrist firmly. "Gotcha!"

Harley shimmied down the tree and dragged her pint-sized hostage along with her. The jester was surprised by how little he fought, just stared at her in shock and confusion. "Come on!" She grumbled, throwing him into the back seat of her get-away car.

Happi quickly pulled the door handle, but found it locked. He glared and scrambled to the opposite door. Also locked; He flinched when the shrill voice of the woman entered the car. She slammed her door shut and started the car. "Seat belt… "She commanded, pealing out of the drive.

Happi hunkered down in his seat, staring forward at the jester woman. Only after they were safely on the highway, jumbled in amongst the others cars, did Harley notice the silence from the backseat. She looked in the rearview mirror at the kidnapped child, the sadness in his wide blue eyes finding it's way to her own baby-blues. With a pang of sympathy, she clicked her tongue and spoke over her shoulder to him. "It wasn't supposed to go like that, y'know… I was just plannin' on a robbery."

"So why did you kidnap me?"

"It was more of a reflex... had to get myself a shield so old Brucie wouldn't have a reason to shoot me right then and there." Harley mumbled, looking in her rearview mirror to make sure she wasn't being followed.

Happi frowned and shook his head. "Nah, Bruce wouldn't ever anyone… he's too nice." He mumbled in an unusually calm tone.

She smirked and rolled her eyes. "You would think that, being his son an' all."

Happi rubbed at his shoulder, about to interject about his mistaken identity, but Harley spoke up once more and forced him to silence himself.

"Level with me, kid… if I were to set a price for you, how much do you think you'd be worth?"

Harley noticed the boy scrunch up his face in an irritated, slightly disgusted way. "How could you ask someone a question like that? How should I know what I'm worth?"

"Well, you _are_ rich-boy's spawn, I imagine you know something about value. So come on… fifty grand? I was thinking thirty, but maybe I could bump the price for giving you back in one piece-"

"I'm not worth anything to him because he isn't my fa-"

Harley studied him and quickly spoke up as the child glanced out his window. "Hey, you trying to memorize which way we're going? You are! Scrawny brat… Here, put this over your head or I'll drop your value a couple thousand with a bullet through your chest." Harley tossed a brown bag into the backseat, her voice threatening and low.

"You don't have to be so rude, y'know… and I wasn't trying to memorize the way home, dumb-ass."

"Takes one to know one…Ugly brat."

"Miss not-funny-at-all-even-though-I-dress-like-a-clown."

"The name is Miss Quinn, actually… stupid head." Harley spat in a juvenile tone.

Happi (much to Harley's surprise) stuck out his tongue and pulled the bag over his head to cut the conversation off.

* * *

><p>The lair was far too quiet as he entered. The henchies were off doing whatever they did with their spare time (he supposed they probably got wasted) and Harley was clearly somewhere else, considering the lack of a migraine.<p>

Unfortunately, however, he did need his ego massaged, and Harley was always good at that. The lack of activity lately was beginning to bother and bore him. Three days since the heist at the bank and not one drunken Falcone gangster or trigger-happy Black-Mask mobster had come to get revenge. The only positive part of this was that he got to keep the money… How incredibly dull; What was the point of mayhem without competition?

He was dressed comfortably in his white wife-beater and polka-dotted boxers, green hair bed-frazzled mess on the top of his head. Sleeping all day had become quite regular over the years, considering his business was done in the dark where he and Batsy could tango properly. Again, it was all about the sport. Without contenders, the game could not progress. He blinked his green eyes and stretched out on the rather fancy couch, an object that was a bit out of place in the abandoned warehouse that had been serving as home for the past couple of months.

The Joker gave a sad sigh, but found himself grinning softly at the silence. The peace was starting to set in and sleep reclaiming him, but like all good things, it was soon ripped away from him and shot in the head.

"Puddin'! You home? I got you a little something that you're gonna like, hopefully…" The jersey accent like nails on a chalk board made him grit his teeth as he sat up.

He eyed her suspiciously as she stood at the door, biting her lip nervously with a fearful smirk. He got up off the couch and popped his neck, running his hands through the greenish-black hair atop his head. "I was sleeping, Harley…" He hissed, but found that she didn't exactly notice the poison in his tone.

"Its… actually a double gift, Puddin'. It's for Mardi Gras! Remember?" She asked, taking a cautious step back as he drew nearer with the dangerous expression she'd trained herself to run from.

"Didn't you hear me? I was sleeping! Besides…" The Joker stopped and raised an eyebrow. "…We never agreed to giving gifts for Mardi Gras, Harley… and it's not for a couple of days, anyway."

Harley pouted and curled his hands behind her back sadly. "I wanted it to be special this year… you know, since you've got that neat plan for the mayor's float in the parade." She kicked her foot solemnly and added "You always get so quiet around Mardi Gras…"

Harley had always secretly hoped that his melancholy attitude during the part of the year was because of the birth of their distant son, but he had often told her otherwise…. Then again, Mr. J was a master at hiding his true emotions. Those months of internship at Arkham had taught her something about her boyfriend, aside from how much she loved him.

Joker curled his lip and rolled his eyes, holding a hand out. "Fine, fine… don't get all goopy-eyed on me, Harls. Just give me the gift and we'll move on with life."

Harley giggled and held out the small ring. "I stole it, right out from under Bruce Wayne's nose… It's got green, like your eyes, and Black like half of my suit. A little bit of both of us… ain't it romantic, Puddin'?" She asked, twirling herself into his arms (though it was more of a graceless fall which happened to land her against his side.) She hoped he would find the secret symbolism of it, but she was disappointed when he merely turned it over in his palm and shrugged.

The clown prince eyed the small gift, and snorted. "Good job, Harls… right out from under old Playboy's nose, huh? Well, that's one thing you did right. It's not much, but a start."

Harley smiled and hitched a thumb towards the door. "Now for part two! So, there was a little… incident… on the way out, but I got a double prize in the end. Dragged the little bugger along with me-"

"Harley, Harley, Harley…"The Joker pinched the bridge of his nose, discreetly fitting her gift onto his left ring-finger. "What have I told you about pets? Bud and Lou are annoying enough as it is… didn't I tell you I'd skin you and the animal alive if you dragged a stray in here?"

"No, Puddin'! It's not a pet, you silly." She giggled and kissed his cheek before bouncing off to the car. The clown gave an amused smirk and sat on the couch, waiting for her to return.

Harley was annoying, no doubt… but she did have her good moments. He could remember times in bed, when he'd lay next to her and watch her tiny frame rise and fall as she slept. First, he'd think about what she might be dreaming of, but then the thoughts would turn to how many ways he could imagine killing her. There were countless ways to do it, but he had always run into one problem.

He cared far too much to kill her like someone who didn't matter. It may not seem very romantic, but he and Harley both knew what her death meant. He couldn't just shoot her or stab her… No, Harley meant too much to him to die like that.

If he would die, it would be by her hands… and when she dies, it would be by his alone.

The clown's thoughts were interrupted at Harley came in with a small figure. She had a bag over his head and a gun to his back. She forced him forward and smiled at the Joker, who simply stared with slight confusion. "…What is that?"

Harley beamed and removed the bag, pushing the boy forward. The boy coughed and sputtered, falling forward a bit by the push. He shot a disdainful look over his shoulder, but then looked up to meet the Joker's gaze. The two simply stared for a moment, both completely shocked by the small features in the others' face. They couldn't tell, but something was definitely strange.

Harley scarcely noticed their strange interaction, and went on. "It's your present, Puddin'! He's Brucie's kid… probably worth thousands. I got him here unharmed so we could ransom him off at a high price…"

Happi blinked his baby blue eyes up at the Joker before looked back at Harley with a scowl. "No… If you would have listened to me in the car, you would have known that I'm not-"

"Zip it, Brat! You're in the presence of the Clown Prince of Crime! Show a little respect." She squeaked, spinning around the boy and leaning into the Joker's side. She bat her long eyelashes at him and kissed his cheek. "Isn't he just a peach, Puddin? I think we should cut him up just a little… teach him some manners before selling him back to the Boy-Billionaire."

Happi looked at the clown, eyebrows furrowed. "Is she always like this?" He asked quietly, ignoring the nasty glare he received from the woman.

"Yes, but usually a lot less threatening." He mumbled, casting a dark smile at the boy. "So… You're Brucie's maggot, eh? You don't look a bit like him, kid. Your face is too heart-shaped and your nose is turned up… I thought the playboy only did models."

The boy seemed relatively unmoved by the terrifying smile this clown man was shooting at him. Instead he gave an exasperated sigh. "Bruce isn't my dad! That's what I've been trying to tell her." Happi pointed towards Harley and went on, completely unafraid of this clown king or crime or whatever his name was. "If she would have listened to me, she would know that I'm not even related to Bruce… He's fostering me over the summer."

The Joker glared over his shoulder at Harley, but then returned his attention to the orphan. "So you're relatively worthless to him, eh?"

Happi nodded slowly. "I guess so."

The Joker was surprised by the boy's flat tone. He pulled out a gun and pressed it to the boy's forehead. "If I killed you right now… would anyone care?"

Still, there was no reaction… not even a flinch. The Joker's grip on the gun loosened, completely confused by the lack of fear in this kid's eyes. "Probably not, Mr. Clown." Happi spoke, looking the Joker directly in the eyes.

Harley looked away, attempting to hide her eyes should Puddin' decide to splatter the kid. She was shocked when she heard the Joker laugh. He was chuckling profusely, gun lowering from the boy's head. Happi didn't laugh, however. He simply watched this insane man laugh at something.

"You've got spunk you little spit-fire! I've seen hundreds of grown men that would have shit themselves in your position. A kid… who isn't even slightly scared of a crazed man dressed like a clown!" The Joker mused between his laughter. He soon calmed down to light giggles, running a hand through his own green hair. "What's your name, kid?"

The boy blinked slowly, surprised by how utterly uncomfortable it was to hear this man laugh. He forced a brave expression and spoke up with a voice that shook only for a moment. "Happi Quinnzel."

* * *

><p>Can i get an 'OH SHIT' from the audience! How will Joker and Harley react and will Happi take the news well? You'll just have to wait and see... .but for now *stares at empty microsoft word document* ...o_o omg what am i going to do?<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Yes yes, i know. "_You should post faster!" "Why u no update!" "MEEEH! PLZ UPDATE"_ xD I understand, i get that way about stories too(even though i never thought it'd happen to mine...xD) Anyway, i swear things will start moving along as far as my update schedule from now on. With the preliminaries out of the way, the plot can begin to take it's form and move along into the deep abyss of a story i've got here... And if you were hoping for a reaction, you'll just have to wait for the next ( much sooner) update. Charlie is important! Do not skip over him! He and his lady deserve just as much attention as Happi does, because they will eventually come together. Anyway, i don't own batman or anything related, only the fan characters so no Sue, blah blah blah yadda yadda... ^^ Without further delay, here's Chapter 6!

* * *

><p>The remains of a cigarette fluttered to the green carpet, fallen from the mouth of a man in pain.<p>

"Fucking hell, Rachel!" A yelp escaped his mouth as the needle pulled through his arm again. Charlie Sloan had gotten stitches hundreds of times before. From bicycle crashes when he was six to shrapnel wounds from just yesterday in the bank heist. However, this time seemed all the more painful considering his pride was aching from the incredible failure.

"Fucking hell, Charlie!" The red head mocked, finishing up her stitch job with a roll of her eyes. "You're being such a baby. This has gotta be the, what, seventh time I've patched you up this month? C'mon, suck it up."

Sloan ran a shaky hand through his brown hair and swallowed hard, finally unclenching his green eyes for the first time in the past hour. The needle hadn't hurt… the fact that it was his girl patching him up didn't hurt… But what did hurt was the knowledge that the Black Mask's failure had been completely on his head. Not two months ago was it that Charlie had gotten a promotion along with a cushy raise, only to have it all taken away.

This was the least of his worries. His biggest fear at the moment was how much longer he was going to be alive. The boss wasn't the most understanding of people… what little he'd seen or heard about him were never good things.

Nobody knew him personally. Nobody really wanted to… chances were, if you did meet the boss face to face, it was only because you had fucked up bad enough for him to want to kill you himself. Stay off the radar, and stay alive… it'd been the only rule Charlie set for himself (aside from not bringing work home with him.)

And because of that fucking Clown, his first rule had been compromised. Rachel Stuart stood and paced over to the counter with her arms crossed. Charlie watched her swaying hips with a smug grin, but instantly felt the humor leave as she turned and glared at him.

"You said you weren't gonna keep doing this."

"You act like getting money is a crime."

"It IS a crime when you're getting it illegally Charlie. Damn it!" She shot him a menacing look.

"Babe… I'm gonna stop, a'right? Chill…" He leaned back against the couch, feet coming to rest on the coffee table.

"Yeah... yeah Charlie, you are gonna stop…" She paced forward and pushed his feet off the table. "with a bullet through your head and a knife in your back."

Charlie looked at her and raised a cocky eyebrow. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me Rache." The teasing got no response, so he sighed and stood.

Rachel crossed her arms and turned away from him. He slowly approached and wrapped his arms around her. His attempts at humor didn't seem to be helping. This was apparently one of those 'fragile' moments, as she called them. Emotional outreach was not his strong suit, but he always found himself put in the position of comforting her.

The diner she worked at often left her auburn hair smelling like cigarettes and coffee, but tonight it didn't seem to hold that scent as it was mingled with coconut, her favorite shampoo.

"You don't have to worry…I ain't going anywhere, babe." He breathed.

She spun around in his embrace, head pressed gently into his chest.

"…Promise you wont go to the meeting tonight…" She bit her lower lip, green eyes turned up at him pleadingly. "Please Charlie."

The mobster only chuckled, tipping her chin up and kissing her briefly. "You're cute when you're worried."

Rachel dropped her shoulders, burying her face into his jacket. The lack of a serious answer meant he was going, and she knew she couldn't stop him… Ever since college he'd been this fucking stubborn. It took sweet moments like this to remind her why she looked twice at such a smug wise-ass.

And then the phone rang, and the reminiscing was cut short. Charlie released her from the embrace, and shot her a soft smile. "Go get ready for bed, babe."

She hesitated, but soon shook her head and left into the small bedroom, parting the hanging-bead door. When he was sure she wasn't listening, Charlie picked the phone up and took a shallow breath. "…What's up, Vinny?"

"The boss wants to see you…"

Charlie's face remained still, a pause drawing out between the coworkers before he finally answered. "Ah."

"Listen, Charlie… You're my friend… Is there anything I can do? Leave a key under the door and I'll help Rachel pack and get outta town. You know how these things can go wrong for people involved and su-"

"You ain't getting in Rachel's panties, Vinny, so you can get that notion outta your head. She's too smart for your bullshit anyway. I'll be there in ten."

"Smart ass…"

Charlie hung up the phone, smirking lightly. So, he was going to talk to the boss, eh? Great… Just what he'd expected.

"What'd Vinny want?" The tiny voice cooed from the bedroom door.

Charlie turned to Rachel, who'd changed into a long night shirt that hung to her mid-thigh. By the look on her face, he could tell she probably already knew. "The boss needs to see me. I'm his head gun, whether I like it or not, and when duty calls… y'know…" He grumbled, approaching her slowly.

Rachel looked down at her feet, red headed bun falling slightly. Charlie kissed the top of her head and smirked. "Hey, it'll be alright. Keep the emergency suitcase handy, and stay by the phone. I'll call."

"…If you can, Charlie…" Her voice was soft, on the verge of tears.

Charlie, always the comedian, rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her. "Always the optimist, Rache. I will call… promise."

He gave her a quick kiss before grabbing his hat and coat. The door closed gently behind him, and the apartment was left dark and silent. Rachel sunk down into the couch, legs curled up beneath her. Another sleepless night waiting for Charlie to call; Why didn't she just go to bed?

…Because he promised…. The answer always came that quickly, every time something like this happened. She knew the risks of being with him, but the part that ex daddy's girl Rachel Evelyn Stuart found scariest was the fact that she didn't care. Though he'd never made it to one of their dates, never once come home uninjured or calm and never even asked her how her day was… She still managed to love him.

It wasn't a fairy tale, but it was better than what COULD happen to you in Gotham.

* * *

><p>Yes that bank robbery from earlier was relevant, not just for fun. ^^ Charlie and Rachel are quite sweet, i think... but then, i think organs and eyeballs are cute so... my opinion doesn't really count. o-e...<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

UGH. I hope you're all happi (gigglesnort). I'm terrible at writing sappy goodness, and this chapter is CHOCK-FULL-OF-FLUFF. So, if you have an allergy to cheesy adorable loving reuniting, you may want to skip the second half of this chapter.

* * *

><p>"…Come again?" The clown had asked, twisting I finger in his ear, as if to remove some obstruction preventing him from hearing exactly what the boy had said.<p>

"Happi Jack Quinnzel…" the boy repeated, eyes shifting in confusion from the Joker to Harley.

Harley swallowed the lump in her throat, frozen in place despite the fear building up within her that urged her to run away and hide.

No. There was absolutely no way that this was the same child… this was not her baby. Not the one she fought so very hard to keep. Not the one she secretly cried over for months. Not the one she had been warned to forget about, by her own lover no less. There wasn't a God cruel enough to pull a trick so vile, so crude… so unfair, on miserable little her.

Joker looked over his shoulder at Harley, eyes glinting with rage. She, of course, understood immediately what this look was a precursor to. And this would usually be the point where Harley took off running, but she didn't. She was too shocked to do much besides gape her mouth and try to force words to her black painted lips. "P-Puddin I didn't know he-"

Happi flinched as the slap resonated off the metal walls of the building, followed by a thud and a squeak as the harlequin woman hit the floor. He stared in horror as the clown approached her, white-gloved fists clenched in rage at his sides, shaking in pure entropy.

"I-I didn't know Mistah J, I swear to G-agh!" Her voice was restricted by a hand around her neck, hoisting her up until her feet dangled inches off the ground. Happi shook his head, summoning up his bravery out of pity for his kidnapper.

"Stop it! Don't do that, you'll kill her!" His pleas fell on uncaring ears, as the Joker only backed Harley against the wall, crushing her neck hard between his hands.

"Spiteful little wench! Didn't I say to forget about him? Didn't I say!" He shook her like a ragdoll, using impossible strength to keep her inches above the floor.

The frail blonde sputtered and coughed for air, blue eyes frantic in their search for any solution to the lack of oxygen. She dare not reach out or kick him away… that'd end even worse than whatever he had planned at the moment. Retaliation had never gotten her anywhere, and so she dangled there, helplessly turning her gaze to the boy… Her baby boy;

Had this gone on mere seconds more, Harley's mind would've simply blacked out to avoid any further damage… however it stopped when a yell had sounded and the grip of the powdery white gloves loosened suddenly from around her bruised neck.

Harley fell to her knees, hands braced on the floor as she drew long, deep gasps for the lovely oxygen. Her vision began to clear and she first noticed her puddin's black and white shoes… right beside a small pair of bare feet. She dared to look up from beneath her crooked headpiece.

He hadn't exactly thought about doing it… His own safety had not been planned in his mind until after the fact, really. Rushing the clown man and pushing him with all of his might had been purely instinct (or stupidity). The Joker had merely rocked on his feet with the minimal blow from the impact of the boy's hands, spun around and locked his cold gaze on the large blue eyes of the child.

Only now was Happi starting to think that maybe his little act of bravery hadn't been the wisest course of action… But he stood firm, eyebrows drawn together and lips pursed into a thin line. There it was again! That odd, mirror effect that left Happi's mind spiraling. How could that expression be on the clown's face, when he'd only ever seen it in his own reflection? It was so incredibly familiar… He wanted more than anything for that face to go away. Not a second after the thought had passed through Happi's mind had it been voiced by the man opposite of him.

"Stop looking at me like that…" The Joker snarled, cracking his knuckles with a hateful sneer.

Happi only deepened his expression of malice and balled his fists up, as if to fight.

The two had an invisible line between them that, if cut, would have released the rage upon Harley once more. Happi's mere presence was enough to hold The Joker's rage back by its' hypnotic irony. It was undeniable, the resemblance in their stances, their expressions, even small mannerisms like clutching their fists in anger or fear. As Harley collected herself enough to stand against the wall and regain her balance, she couldn't take her eyes off of them. It brought a tiny flutter of a smile to her lips, to see father and son interacting… even if it was through their hate, at least it was a connection.

The moment of contemplation was crushed away and replaced with fear in Harley, as The Joker leaned down to glare nose to nose with Happi.

"…I'm going up to my office…" He seethed, grabbing the impudent child's shirt and tugging him close. "And if I hear so much as a peep out of you, I'll cut your rotten throat, you little shit."

Happi's blue eyes glittered with worry, and he decided a remark or a scowl would end him in a place he really didn't want to be.

When he was satisfied by the look on the boy's face, the seething clown man turned to Harley and glared.

"Either you get rid of him, or I will."

With that, he spun on his heels and headed up the staircase to the small office, slamming it shut on the two pairs of watching blue eyes.

Harley's body shivered, and a sound reached her ears… it took her a moment to realize it was a miserable sob from her own mouth. Her frame sunk to the floor and buried her face into her red and black palms. White face-paint was wiped away, and the black domino mask fell to the floor. The already shaken woman could feel her chest throbbing from all the stress, and a ball of agony wedged itself in her throat.

How could he? She'd spent years wanting her baby, avoiding the subject, hiding the tears… and now that she actually had him, the bastard upstairs couldn't bring himself to be happy with her. He was their baby…. THEIR son, and he couldn't be happy about something good. He was only ever happy about bad things… never miracles, like this.

Harley wasn't a religious person… she hadn't even been religious as a child, but she swore it was an angel's comforting hand on her shoulder just now. Her swollen blue orbs turned up to the boy, arms wrapping around her and head falling into the crook of her neck.

"It's okay… I'm sorry I got you in trouble, miss Harley…"

The soft voice only increased her tears with its' innocence. Sometimes, under great sadness, comfort is the worst kind of treatment… because it makes your walls fall apart and your defense crumble away. She looked at the boy and forced a smile. "And I'm sorry for giving you such a rotten name…"

Happi was shocked by the change in her voice. The Boston twinge had vanished momentarily for a professional, sincere voice that made his heart hurt a little bit. The greatest shock came after the realization of her words. For a moment, his gaze was cold and confused… but it soon melted away to wide eyed shock.

Harley Quinn… Harley Quinn(zel?)… His chin wobbled softly, as he remembered once seeing his birth certificate. His father's name had read 'N/A', but his mother's name had been left alone.

"Harleen Quinnzel?" His tone was a tiny whisper, barely audible besides the squeak at the end. The reassurance of a single smile was all he needed.

Happi had planned for this moment. Back at the orphanage, they were often told not to look back upon regrets, or parents they may have never known… Not every orphan gets reunited with mommy and daddy. That was stuff of fairy tales and happy endings, not real life. But that hadn't stopped him.

His mom, Harleen, would walk into the orphanage one day and demand to see her baby. He'd come downstairs, and see her from a distance at the front door… but he would instantly know, by the angelic smile and the light from the glass window behind her, that she was his. Happi would smile and run to her, hugging her and smiling. True happiness glazing his eyes with tears for the first time ever; "You found me!"

He'd fantasized it too many times to count… even before he had gotten over his speech impediments, he could remember thinking about it.

But now, in the actual moment, where it was far less romantic… he was at a loss for emotion. He'd first considered hugging her, but he couldn't move his weak arms. Then, pronouncing in disbelief that it was a miracle… that didn't happen either. Or, perhaps demanding why she had abandoned him? No, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

Happi's jaw wobbled and he swallowed the hesitation down smoothly. When it all but dissipated, his smile stretched from ear to ear and he squeezed his arms around her middle, face buried into her suit with a soft giggle. "You found me…"

It wasn't the heavenly dream he'd desperately wanted, back when he was an orphan… but it was close enough to make him want to cry.

Harley, being one who easily expressed emotion, broke down once more… only this time it was with gushing joy. The harlequin clutched the little black haired boy close to her, smiling kindly.

The two remained like this for a while, unafraid of any possible outburst from the room upstairs… at the moment, it didn't matter. Happi wasn't an orphan anymore, Harley had her only baby back in her arms… for once in their lives, things were looking up.

* * *

><p>Fucking hell, i'm such a sap... LETS GET BACK TO THE MOBSTERS, PLEASE.<p> 


End file.
